


Tu Me Manques

by thekeyholder



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 18:41:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4756913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder/pseuds/thekeyholder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley misses Aziraphale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tu Me Manques

**Author's Note:**

> I've had the idea for some weeks and I finally managed to write it. Just a fluffy drabble. It's not betaed, because I don't really know people in the fandom and I didn't want to bother any of my friends. I hope there aren't (many) mistakes. I also suck at coming up with good titles, so I just went for "I miss you" in French. Enjoy. :)

Crowley was mightily bored. He watched the ducks with the expression of someone who bit into a very sour lemon, and finally got up from the bench. Nothing pleased him: the weather was unpredictable, the park was depressing with the bare trees and even the ducks waddled so stupidly. Nothing could hold his attention for more than five seconds.

 

He knew what he needed, but he didn’t even want to think about it. _Him_. About him. For Someone’s sake, he couldn’t be this dependant on that annoying angel, could he? But as he looked over the menu at the Ritz, the absence of his… partner? frenemy? okay, fine, _friend_ , became really acute. How upsetting; he couldn’t order dessert, because Aziraphale wasn’t there to share it with him. It had been only five days and the angel even called two days ago. He sounded nice, his usual polite self, which hardened Crowley’s heart temporarily. However, when Aziraphale laughed at his silly joke, Crowley clutched the phone more tightly, and swallowed. He looked out the window absentmindedly as he remembered Aziraphale’s promise to be back soon.

 

It wasn’t really a surprise when he ended up at the bookshop. He entered with the key he got from Aziraphale in case of an emergency, and stood there unmoving in the middle for a minute. He didn’t know what he’d actually do there, but it was getting really cold and dark outside and his fingers were numb. The familiar smell of the shop, that combination of vanilla from the old books, dust and hot chocolate, calmed him down a bit. He went directly to the alcohol stash in the other room, and looked for something strong. He spotted a bottle of Glühwein instead. It was the perfect choice; it always made him feel warm and sleepy.

 

He took a glass from the cupboard and sat down on the couch. He put his feet up on the small table, then poured the wine in the glass, warming it at the same time. The spices were lovely, so the ruby liquid soon disappeared. Crowley leaned back and felt as he sank deeper among the pillows. That was when he noticed something on the other end of the couch. It was a familiar white shirt with pale green and blue stripes.

 

Crowley slid closer to it and ogled the piece of clothing curiously for a while. Then he picked it up and with the resigned sigh of a being who knew he couldn’t fall lower than that, he brought the shirt to his nose. He inhaled deeply; beneath the layer of bookstore smell, he discovered that sweetness he had been aching for for days. He buried his face in the fabric, and lay down on the couch.

 

“Crowley.”

 

Someone shook his shoulder gently.

 

“My dear boy…”

 

Cold fingers caressed his face. Finally, the demon opened his eyes to Aziraphale leaning over him with a smile.

 

“You’re back,” Crowley mumbled and grabbed the angel’s wrist.

 

“Yes. Fancy seeing you here.”

 

The cheeky tone was followed by raised eyebrows and a glance to the thing bunched up under Crowley’s right cheek. The demon felt red spots appear on his face.

 

“I just…”

 

“I know, I missed you too,” Aziraphale said and lay down on Crowley’s chest.

 

Crowley huffed and ran his fingers through the angel’s curls.

 

Aziraphale then dragged his sleepy demon upstairs and helped him get into the soft bed. Crowley had just enough strength to press a spicy wine tasting kiss on Aziraphale’s lips before he fell asleep contentedly.


End file.
